Cry Ophelia
by s1ncer1ty
Summary: No one ever expected Aya would be the first to go. Ken never expected he'd be the one to pull the strings to his teammates' fate. And he never expected to find solace in a fellow teammate's arms. (Complete, Ch. 2 revised, KxO)
1. 1

"Cry Ophelia"   
by s1ncer1ty 

*A/N: Character death (nope, he's not coming back), too much angst, eventual KxO slashiness. Part 1/3.

_**

~ 1 ~ 

**_

_

you say you want to learn  
how to live your life without tears  
but we've been trying to do that  
for thousands of years  
so go on and cry ophelia

_

_~ adam cohen_

It was supposed to have been just a simple data retrieval mission. Get in, a quick download of certain essential files, get out. Clean, simple, boring as hell. Ken had never felt himself to be at all cut out for data retrieval -- Weiss hadn't hired him for his mental faculties, after all. He was the ground-man, the muscle, that extra leverage with bladed steel at his fingertips. When it came to obtaining data, he was all to often extraneous, simply a contingency should the mission turn sour... like tonight. 

It was supposed to have been so simple, but before they knew it, he and Aya were suddenly fighting for their lives. 

As they often did, they fought side-by-side, a dance of steel and crimson; together, Ken and Aya were all too efficient killers. But there were so many of them, black-clad troopers, giving even the well-seasoned assassins a run for their money. Ken had managed to avoid the worst of the attacks so far, but he was still aching, lip and cheeks starting to swell from blows that had snuck past his blades. Aya as well seemed to have escaped the worst, but blood dripped down his forehead from a laceration, mingling with the crimson of his hair, and his left leg visibly pulled in a limp. 

Again, Ken cursed Yohji for backing out of this mission; they could use all the help they could get. As it stood, Omi had gone silent over the communications link for altogether too long. As he and Aya backed towards the staircase to the ground level, where Omi had been hacking into the facility's mainframe, Ken wondered if the younger boy was even still alive. 

A scream of pain filtered up from the staircase -- Omi's voice -- as if in answer. 

Ken pulled his bugnuks from the chest of one of the enemy, as always unable to ignore the sickening twist of bone and sinew, and snapped his head towards the stairs, exclaiming, "Oi! Omi!" 

Aya backtracked his steps, drawing up to Ken's side. "Go. I'll hold them off here." 

"Wait a minute -- Aya!" Ken pulled up short at the head of the staircase, practically toppling over his own feet. 

"It's more important that the data is secure. Ken, go to Omi." Aya's words were cold, but the expression behind his sharp eyes was anything but that. Aya meant business. 

Another shout filtered up the stairs, snapping Ken from his thoughts. Aya was barely an afterthought as he tore down the staircase two at a time. Aya would be fine, or so he told himself. Omi needed him more. His heart began to race as he sprinted the hallway leading to the back of security, where Omi had been positioned. His blades called out for blood, for the horrid stench of copper that already permeated the air, and he snapped his bugnuks to the ready... 

Omi was surrounded, his crossbow knocked from his hands, and Ken burst in just in time to see one of four sink his knife deep into the boy's left arm, his reflexes too dulled to completely escape what was intended to be a direct shot to the heart. Ken simply couldn't make out the faces of the men -- he was too focused on the rush of blood that flew immediately from Omi's wound in a sweeping scarlet arc. It was no wonder Omi hadn't managed to dodge the strikes -- it wasn't the first time he'd been stabbed, as apparent from the fans of blood that stained the walls and spattered across the cold tile floor. Omi's clothing was dripping crimson like syrup. 

Blood. Blood _everywhere_. 

And with four swift slashes, straight to the chest, the blood of four criminals mingled with Omi's, spreading in a thick, viscous across the floor. 

The final body had no sooner slid from the cold metal of his bugnuks that Ken found himself back-to-back with Omi, who was shakily shouldering his crossbow once more. The boy's breath was ragged in his throat, every movement an orchestra of pain. But it wasn't the ragged hiss that Omi let out as he bumped his back against Ken's, nor the steady patter of his blood dribbling to the floor, that gave Ken's heart a start -- it was the rasping quaver in Omi's voice. 

"Ken-kun, do you smell that?" 

Ken grunted, turning so his hand clasped Omi's uninjured shoulder. His head tilted up, nose in the air, eyes drifting shut as he sought to sense any smell beyond the copper spill of blood. Faintly, beneath that all-too-familiar stench was a whiff of something sharp, like rotten eggs, sulfur. Brimstone. Or it would be when the flames from the sparking computer equipment ignited... 

_Shit. _

Ken's grip on Omi's shoulder tightened, causing the boy to cry out in pain as he was shoved forward, and Ken shouted, "Omi, _RUN_!" Before he knew it, he was at Omi's back, shoving hard to get him to run faster, faster... 

As they thundered down the hallway, the smell of leaking gas grew stronger, the crackle from the electrical equipment louder, and a wave of heat followed fast at their heels. No matter how fast they ran, it seemed the door at the end of the hallway only grew smaller and smaller. It would be a miracle if they made it out alive, and yet... 

"_No_!" exclaimed Omi, skidding fast and nearly toppling Ken in his tracks as he turned back towards the control room. "Ken-kun, we've got to go back! Aya-kun -- If Aya-kun is still upstairs, we have to go back!" 

"We can't do that!" Barely in time, Ken managed to catch Omi across the shoulders, placing himself between the other boy and a scorching, flaming demise. "Aya can take care of himself!" 

"But we can't leave him!" Omi's voice broke, and he struggled, flailing, but his injuries and the pain had weakened him, and he was held fast in Ken's grip. "We're a team!" 

"We're assassins! Not an army!" A larger crackle of heat, and Ken felt the floor rumble as an explosion rocked the upper level of the building. "Omi, we've got to _leave_!" 

"But Aya-kun..." 

"Can take care of himself! Now come on!" Forcibly, Ken spun Omi around on his feet, flinching at the slick of blood that had soaked through the younger boy's black windbreaker, and gave him another sharp shove against the back. 

It all happened so quickly. Rumbling, shaking, the floor almost seemed to give way as something large and something explosive thundered fast on their heels as they raced against time to escape. 

A crackle and a miasma of flame engulfed the hallway a split second after Ken had thrown Omi out the door, and his body atop his, so that the hair on the back of his neck singed from the hellish heat of the explosion. 

And somehow, even as the debris continued to fall, in spite of the heat and the pain, Ken managed to drag Omi's squirming, struggling, bleeding body clear of ground zero. He'd managed to dislocate his knee, either from the fall or from the impact, but it was a sweet, welcome pain. It meant that he was still alive, if he could still feel. 

Ken twisted himself around and gathered Omi into his arms as the complex seemed to collapse in on itself, filling the air with a black smoke that singed their lungs. 

Omi was weeping, soft moans of anguish escaping him, each word a choked sob: "Aya-kun... Aya-kun..." 

Ken could do nothing more than hold him, tightly, praying that the world would just stop shaking and burning long enough to get both himself and Omi home alive. 

As the sirens started to wail from the distance, emergency vehicles -- and crawling media -- on their way to such a mighty fire, Ken gave Omi's shoulders a light shake. He winced; Omi's blood had begun to seep through even the thick leather of his gloves. "Hey. Come on." 

Omi shook his head, burying it fast against Ken's chest. There was blood even in his hair, although Ken couldn't tell who it belonged to. 

"No, stop it." Ken pulled Omi's body from his, shaking him more sharply. "I need you to pull yourself together. Can you do that?" 

Omi swiped his good arm across reddened eyes and shivered, but nodded all the same. 

"Omi, I need you. You can stand, right?" 

"Yeah, I think so." Omi's voice was thin, strained, disconnected. 

"You think you can support some extra weight?" 

"Ken-kun?" 

"It'd be easier for both of us. Do you think you can?" 

"I don't know... But I will." Omi staggered to his feet, drying crimson contrasting all the more starkly against grey-pale skin. He pulled Ken's arm around his shoulders, looped his own around the other's waist, and somehow, as the world collapsed around them, they managed to stagger away beneath the cover of darkness, to a payphone where they could touch base with Yohji... and with Persia. 

It was supposed to have been such an easy mission, too. It seemed almost too simple a way for Aya to go, so simple it was insulting. 

"He won't die. He can't die," Ken whispered, swaying on his feet against Omi's trembling support. 

But Omi wouldn't respond and merely hung his head, bloodied hair spilling across his eyes in a futile effort to hide his tears.

_**~ 2: interlude: yohji ~** _

_"Come on, just do it." _

_"Now, now, Ken, kissing your wounds better isn't my job. You're on your own." _

_"Look, it's dislocated. Just pop it back into place, I'll try not to deck you, and it'll all be over." _

_"Isn't Omi the one who should be doing this?" _

_"If you haven't noticed, genius, Omi's barely got use of his arms after being sliced open by those maniacs." _

_"Guess you shouldn't have let your guard down. Like this, then?" _

_"Don't lecture me about keeping my guard down. You weren't there, you don't know. Move your hands down about two inches and push up as hard as you can." _

_"Whatever you say. You want a little warning?" _

_"Doesn't matte -- _AGH_! Argh... Fuck, you could have warned me!" _

_"You said it didn't matter. Feeling better, Ken-Ken?" _

_"Goddammit, motherfucking..." _

_"Thanks for not decking me, by the way." _

_"Fuck... Huh. Yeah, anytime. It's not pretty, but I think it's back in the joint. I might actually be able to walk again tomorrow." _

_"That's not a very pleasant thought." _

_"Nope." _

_"__What about Omi, then?" _

_"What about him?" _

_"Is he okay?" _

_"... No. No, he isn't." _

_"I suppose I can understand, to a certain extent." _

_"I can't say I'm completely all right myself, either." _

_"You know, Ken, people die. It's part of the job. I go into every job thinking I'll die, or one of you will die. That way, I won't miss any of you schmucks when you're gone." _

_"Yeah, but who would have thought it? Aya was the one that went first. Not me, not you, not Omi. _Aya_." _

_"Freaky, isn't it? I can't say he was the one I ever expected to die." _

_"__You can't say that you're not the least bit shaken up over this." _

_"Look, I never said I wasn't shaken. But I also never went into this mission expecting one of us wouldn't go." _

_"Yeah. Well. Shit."_

_"Ah, eloquent as always, I see." _

_"Shut up. My leg fucking hurts." _

_"You got it. One thing before I go, Ken-Ken?" _

_"Hrm?" _

_"Be nicer to Omi than you were to me, okay? It sounds like he's taken this really rough." _

_"Huh? Yeah, I'll... I'll try."_

_**~ 3 ~ **_

"Hey." 

Omi raised his head, slowly, as if even just that small movement were painful. "Ken-kun." 

"Yeah." Ken limped across the room, slid down onto the couch beside Omi with a soft thud. "How are you feeling?" 

"I'm fine. You?" 

"Pretty shitty." 

"I'm sorry to hear that." He almost sounded genuinely sorry, but the previous night's events had drained away all feeling, leaving behind only the empty shell of his words. 

"Remind me never to hire Yohji as my full-time doctor," said Ken wryly. 

Omi smiled a ghost of a grin and sat up straighter, freeing up the middle space on the couch. "Put your leg up if it hurts." 

Ken frowned. "Lie back down already. You lost a lot of blood." He suppressed a shudder, recalling the slick way Omi's windbreaker had slid away beneath his hand, so sodden with blood. 

"Ken-kun --" Omi protested, only to be silenced with a glare and a dismissive wave of Ken's hand. 

"I said lie down."

Omi closed his eyes, too weary to argue, nodding sadly as he slid back down against the couch's arm. He propped his feet upon the center cushion, toes nearly brushing against Ken's thigh. Briefly, Ken felt a twinge of remorse, Yohji's words still ringing in his ears -- _be nice to Omi_. He was trying. 

"So. Ah. How many stitches?" 

"Thirty." 

"Scar?" 

"Yes, it probably will." 

"Heh. Lucky. All I got for my trouble was a recurring knee injury that could have happened at any time." Though he tried to sound light-hearted, Ken's words were strained. 

Omi was silent, head resting against his arm so Ken couldn't see his face. After a time, Ken heard a soft sniffle and suspected, with a sinking feeling, that Omi was crying again. 

"Yeah. Recurring injury. And maybe some mental scars that'll never really heal," Ken whispered. 

Omi made a half-choked sound, a cross between a hiccup and a sob, but was otherwise quiet. 

"Oi, Omi. Don't do that, okay?" 

"Ken-k-kun..." Ken sighed. 

"Come here, then." 

Omi pushed himself away from the couch's arm and practically collapsed into Ken's lap, face burying against the other boy's thigh. One hand clutched weakly at the edge of Ken's shorts, and Ken rested his hand against Omi's back. 

"Take it easy. I know it hurts, but... take it easy." Ken never did have quite the way with words that any of the other boys had. 

"Is Aya-kun really -- really --" Omi somehow managed to whisper. 

"I - guess so...."

Omi whimpered, burying his head further into Ken's lap, crying so silently that Ken thought his heart might just break, if it weren't so numb to anything and everything but Omi's tears. 

_...tbc_


	2. 2

"Cry Ophelia"   
by s1ncer1ty 

* A/N: Angst, more angst, still more angst. Ken angst, yum. Some hints of KxO. Yes, Aya's still dead. Thank you, drive through. 

**_~ 4 ~ _**

Ken didn't know how long the incense had been burning, or how long he'd been asleep, but the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was a stick sputtering with the last of its light and smoke. His shoulder shook, as if of its own accord -- there was warmth there, a hand -- and Ken turned his eyes upwards to gaze upon a face filled with something akin to concern. 

"Ken-kun, are you okay?" Wide, blue eyes peered down at him, set beneath anxiously knitted brows 

"Hunh?" Ken stretched, the muscles in his neck and shoulders protesting at even the smallest movement. "Yeah. Fine. I'm fine, Omi." 

A faint breath escaped through parted lips, turned misty in the chilly autumn air. "It's getting cold out. Let's go home." 

Ken rubbed his bare arms; it had been warm out when he'd left to visit Aya's shrine -- an empty shrine, since they hadn't managed to find the body in the weeks since the ill-fated mission -- and he hadn't thought to wear a jacket or put a sweater on over his T-shirt. But, although his arms were cold and clammy to the touch, he didn't feel chilled inside. In fact, he was beginning to feel overly warm, sweating, as if he were coming down with a fever. 

"Ken-kun?" 

Raking a hand through windblown tangles of hair, Ken turned to look at the fading stem of incense, then back to Omi. "I'll catch up." 

"I rode here. I've got an extra helmet. Come on. I'll take you home." 

But Ken didn't move, instead wrapping his arms around his legs. "How did you know where to find me, anyway?" 

"I didn't. But it seemed like a good place to start." 

"This is the first time I've even been here, you know. The stone's been up for weeks, but I never came. I didn't bring flowers. Does that make me a bad person?" 

Omi finally slid to his knees, resting upon them at Ken's side. He quickly shook his head. "I wouldn't worry about it. You're not a flower person. And, I suppose, neither was Aya-kun." 

Ken smirked wryly. "I guess that's kind-of funny, all things considered." The smile faded just as swiftly from his lips. 

For half a second, Omi smiled thinly. "Ironic," he said in a quiet voice. 

"'sides, enough people seem to have brought flowers anyway. Your doing?" 

"I left a few, yes. For remembrance." 

"The red ones are yours. Roses. And the yellow ones," said Ken, pointing to two of the arrangements surrounding the gravesite. 

Omi nodded, but stayed silent. For a time, he watched Ken, as if studying the other boy's actions, reactions. Finally, he murmured, "Why didn't you go to Aya-kun's funeral?" 

Ken didn't answer, arms wrapping tighter around his knees. 

"Ken-kun?" 

"I didn't want to believe it, okay?" Ken snapped.

"Believe what?"

"That he's... you know. That Aya's truly dead. They never found the body. How did they know he wasn't just... hiding out somewhere?" Ken growled and trailed off, realizing how desperate he was beginning to sound.

Omi blinked incredulously, the minutest break in the calm exterior he'd presented. "But Ken-kun, after all you said... everything you told me. How could you not believe it yourself?" 

"They were just words. I knew it -- I knew Aya was gone, but -- I mean..." Ken struggled, tripping over his words, neck reddening in frustration. "Some part of me just kept expecting him to waltz right in, put on that apron, and start his shift as if nothing had ever happened. Because that's how it would have been. Him and that damn ugly orange sweater and a glare, as if we were wrong to ever question that he was gone, or that he'd be late for his shift... or..." His hands clenched into hard fists, nails digging into shaking palms. 

"And you haven't said goodbye." Simple, quiet. But enough to break beneath Ken's skin, like something sharp digging into an old wound. 

"I don't want to!" Ken cried, eyes far too wide. "It wasn't supposed to be him that went first! God, Omi, don't you get it? He was supposed to be the one to outlive us all!" 

Omi didn't say anything, merely stared at him with such a sad expression, one that Ken tried so hard to push from his mind. He reached out a hand to touch Ken's shoulder, and he recoiled instantly. 

"No! Don't do that... Don't make me believe!" 

"It's time, Ken-kun." 

"Omi..." 

He reached out again, and this time Ken didn't pull away. Sliding forward on his knees, Omi closed the distance between himself and Ken and wrapped his arms around his neck. And Ken clung back, looking as if he were drowning, and Omi was the only thing there to keep him afloat. Breath coming in stunted gasps, sweat beading across his forehead in spite of the autumn cold. It was too much. It was all too much. When Omi touched his hand to the back of Ken's head to draw him closer, he practically leapt out of his skin. 

"It's okay. It's okay." The words, repeated again and again in a soothing litany. 

Dimly, as Omi rocked him, Ken watched the last of the smoke curl from the dying incense, the single stick he'd left burning at the grave of a fallen companion, a teammate, maybe even a friend. He thought he might just shake to pieces if Omi hadn't been holding him together. 

**_~ 5: interlude: omi ~_**

_"Ken-kun?" _

_"You could've knocked."_

_"I -- I'm sorry. It's just that... I have news." _

_"What's that?" _

_"They found him." _

_"Huh?" _

_"Aya-kun, I mean. I received an e-mail from Kritiker. They've found him." _

_"What? You mean he's alive?" _

_"Er... Not exactly, no." _

_"Why the hell didn't you -- No. Never mind. It's not important. Tell me, what did they find?" _

_"They found teeth and other... parts. Kritiker's DNA testing shows that the teeth belong to Aya. Ninety-five percent certain." _

_"Oh." _

_"So now we know." _

_"Yeah."_

_"Ken-kun?" _

_"I said yeah. I gotcha." _

_"But... Are you okay?" _

_"What the hell do you think?"_

_"I think you're hurting. I understand, Ken-kun. More than you probably care to admit." _

_"I -- I guess." _

_"Here's the report. You can read it for yourself." _

_"I will. Later." _

_"Do you need anything?"_

_"No."_

_"Company?"_

_"No."_

_"I'll let you be, then. Just remember, I'm here for you if you need anything. Tea, a friend, you name it." _

_"Thanks."_

_"Take care of yourself." _

_"Wait... O-Omi?"_

_"Huh? What is it Ken-kun?" _

_"Ken-kun?" _

_"..."_

_"Are... you crying?"_

_"..."_

_"Come here. It's okay."_

_"I -- I --" _

_"You don't have to say anything. Just let it go."_

_"..."_

_"That's it. It's okay. Let it go." _

_"..." _

_"Let go..."_

**_~ 6 ~ _**

"Ne, Ken-kun?"

"Mmh." He didn't want to move. At some point, he'd managed to drift into a half-waking daze, not exactly asleep, but certainly not completely awake. He could still feel the warmth of Omi's arms around him, the flutter of breath against his hair. Together they sat on the edge of Ken's bed, and he was just too comfortable... too comforted. 

"Maybe you should get to bed." 

Ken raised his head, managing a thin smile. He could still feel the remnants of tears pounding in his chest; his sinuses were so thick he could hardly breathe. But Omi was just so warm -- "I ain't tired, though."

"You could have fooled me," Omi said, a flicker of a wince darkening the otherwise soft features. 

"Hey, you okay?" 

"My -- my arm's asleep. It hurts." He blushed, large eyes breaking away from Ken's own. 

"Oh." Reluctantly, Ken extracted his arms from around the other boy. He had managed to pin Omi but good, probably before he'd even realized it. Ken was surprised that it took Omi as long as he did to complain. "Sorry. How has it been feeling?" 

Omi shook out his arms, rubbing the muscles in his upper forearms, fingers skirting the area where he'd received far too many stitches after the last mission, and Ken felt another wave of guilt wash over him. He must have noticed hte expression on Ken's face, because his smile turned all the more reassuring. "It hurts from time to time. But mostly it just itches. Especially at night, it really drives me crazy."

"Maybe if I'd been there sooner..."

Omi's voice hardened slightly. "Stop. Please. Now isn't the time for 'what-ifs'. You should know that by now."

"Maybe if I thought about that instead of what has been on my mind, it'd be somehow better."

"I know. But it won't." Omi smiled, and Ken thought he might all too easily break into tears again. The thought that he might be that weak only frustrated him all the more.

"I don't understand," Ken whispered. "Why aren't you mad at me? For -- for Aya, and all?"

Omi's hands immediately fell to Ken's shoulders. "Because it isn't your fault."

"How can you be sure of that? I -- I could have saved you, or I could have saved Aya. One or the other, not both. Why couldn't it have been both?"

Omi rubbed Ken's shoulders lightly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "It was nobody's fault, Ken-kun. Not yours, not mine, not even Aya's."

"What about those fuckers that brought the building down?" Ken said, his eyes darkening and voice dropping to a menacing growl.

"They'll be taken care of. They're still our targets, after all."

Ken looked away, a forced smile lighting on his lips. "I suppose..." he mumbled, trailing off.

"What is it, Ken-kun?"

"I mean, yeah, of course I'm going to do it. I can't wait to rip into those fuckers and take from them what they took from us. But, Omi, after that..."

"After that?"

"I don't know," Ken whispered. "Maybe... Maybe I'm out."

"Oh." Omi turned away, hands sliding from Ken's shoulders.

"Look, Omi," Ken said quickly, "I'm sorry for crying all over you. That wasn't what I wanted to do at all."

"I don't mind. As long as you're feeling better. That's the important thing," said Omi quietly, eyes leveled towards the floor.

Ken shrugged. He could have done without losing it as hard as he did -- the fierceness of the storm, and the subsequent admission to Omi, had left him with such a throbbing ache behind both eyes. 

"Trust me, you needed it." 

"I bet I look like hell. I feel like it, anyway." A final sniffle, and Ken rubbed at painfully raw eyes with the back of his hand. 

"Well, yeah. You do look pretty bad," Omi ventured, grinning thinly.

"You're not supposed to agree with me." 

"I suppose if it really bothered me, I'd have left by now." 

"I don't think I could stand to look at my ugly face right now. You shouldn't have to," said Ken with a faint smirk.. 

"I wouldn't say it's ugly, Ken-kun. Actually, I think you're sort-of cute when you cry." 

Ken blinked, looking up to find, to his astonishment, a brilliant flush of red spreading across Omi's cheeks. "What did you just...?" He trailed off, unable to find the words to continue. 

Jerkily, Omi's hand rose, fingertips barely touching the ends of Ken's hair before they fell to his side once more. "I think that most of the time, anyway," he whispered. 

"Omi?" Ken's mouth hung open in bewilderment.

Omi suddenly gave a thin laugh and shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. "No, you don't need this now. I think it's time you went to bed." 

"I suppose. Not that I'm going to be sleeping anytime soon." 

"Are you going to be okay?" 

"Maybe." Ken followed Omi's lead and stood, swaying slightly. Damn, but he was tired. At this rate, though, between thoughts of Aya and thoughts of Omi, he'd probably never sleep again.

"I'll be down the hall if you need me, then." Omi's hair spilled across his eyes, the fringes just touching reddened cheeks. It seemed as if he couldn't bolt from the room fast enough. 

"Thanks. I -- Goodnight, Omi." 

"Sleep well, Ken-kun." Without meeting Ken's eyes, Omi flashed him a sad smile and fled, the door swinging just shy of completely shut in his haste. 

Ken let out an impatient sigh, flopping back down upon his bed. He didn't know what to think, really. He'd known Omi's news about Aya was only going to come eventually, and he'd finally begun to accept the fact that his teammate was gone. He knew he'd have to mourn at some point, and it was best that he do so in Omi's presence. He was the only member of Weiss that Ken would ever consider a friend. His only friend. The closest friend he'd allowed himself to have since joining Weiss. 

So why couldn't he get the memory of Omi's fingertips ruffling the ends of his hair out of his mind? 

Lay awake all night, thinking. _Thinking_.

...tbc... 


	3. 3

"Cry Ophelia"   
by s1ncer1ty 

*A/N: *checks Aya's pulse* Yep, still dead. Sorry, folks. More KxO coming through. Oh, and angst. Don't forget the angst. Also note that I made a few modifications in part 2, so if something doesn't make complete sense, it might be explained in the reposted version of 2. If it's still not explained...um... it wasn't me! *hides!*

**_~ 7 ~_**

The mission had been carried out with infinitely more ruthlessness than usual. Ken's clothes were so sodden with blood that he vowed to simply burn them when he finally managed to peel himself out of them. His knuckles were so swollen, he probably wouldn't be able to make a fist for days to come. 

His teammates, too, had been equally as violent. Yohji had laid into the enemy with such fierceness that he'd snapped his harigane by his own hands more often than not. Omi had run dry of crossbow bolts and auxiliary darts; the only other time Ken had seen him run out of ammunition was when he, Omi, and Yohji had been hunted by Reiji Takatori's army, when they'd all nearly died had Aya not appeared at the last minute to save their sorry hides... 

_Aya_. It had all been for Aya. The fighting, the blood, the ultra-violence. 

The original pretense -- and even Persia knew it as such -- was to finish the mission in which Aya had been killed. But really, all the boys had fought like animals solely in vengeance for their fallen comrade. 

Ken hoped that, wherever he was, Aya would be happy, because he certainly wasn't. 

He trudged up the cold spiral staircase to his room, turned the shower tap in his bathroom as hot as he could stand it, and pulled the blood-soaked clothing from his skin. He couldn't suppress a wince at the wet smacking sound his shirt made as it hit the tiles. Even though the blood washed away easily, the stain would remain forever imprinted in his mind. Just as the sight of Omi's blood staining the walls and darkening the fabric of his windbreaker would never leave. 

Ken swayed dizzily, sickened by his thoughts, and spilled into a heap beneath the heavy shower stream, where even the scalding water and steam couldn't wash away his sins. 

He couldn't do it anymore. There was nothing -- and no one -- he cared to fight for. No purpose, no drive, no nerve.

But leaving was easier said than done. 

The water had run cold, chilling even Ken's frozen soul, by the time he finally emerged. Somehow, he managed to find a rumpled pair of shorts and pull them on before he headlong into his bed, and gave himself freely to the the overwhelming darkness of sleep. 

**_~ 8 ~_**

Ken felt as if he'd slept for weeks, hibernating in a womb of blackness where no dreams threatened to overtake his sanity. He probably could have kept on sleeping, were it not for the rapping that built at the back of his mind, intensified, threatened to drive away what remained of his sanity. 

Sitting up sharply, Ken struggled to bring the world into focus. There was someone standing before him, interrupting his unconsciousness -- Death, perhaps? But since when had Death worn red sneakers and long, white socks...? 

"Ken-kun?" Omi stood in the doorway, looking hesitant and pale. The events from several nights before had clearly taken their toll. Unlike Ken, the smudges of darkness beneath his eyes betrayed his own distinct lack of sleep. 

"Unh. Yeah. I think." Ken sat up with a groan, every muscle seeming to protest as he disentangled himself from his sheets. 

"How are you?" 

"Fine." _Liar_, he thought inwardly. In reality, he felt like some pathetic creature that a cat might have killed after hours of toying with it in slow, delicious torture. 

"That's good," said Omi softly, head lowered so as not to meet Ken's gaze. 

"How about you?" 

Omi shrugged. Ken couldn't help but notice that, even weeks after the original incident, he still favored his uninjured shoulder. "Not as well as I'd like. But not too bad, relatively speaking." 

"Oh." Ken rubbed an eye with the palm of his hand. "What isn't okay?" 

Omi let out a faint laugh. "Just -- something you mentioned. Before the last mission." The last phrase was said softly, as if it pained him just to bring up the bloodbath that was the last mission. 

"Mmh," Ken murmured. Sliding from between the sheets, he climbed to his feet and crossed the room to his dresser. Without another word, he slid open the top drawer and took out a rumpled red T-shirt, pulling it over his bare chest. 

"Are you... still out?" asked Omi, not moving from his spot on the bed, amid Ken's tangled bedsheets and his own unrelenting doubt. 

"I can't say I've given it a hell of a lot of thought." With a dry laugh, Ken added, "I've been unconscious for the past -- er. However long. How long have I been asleep, anyway?" 

"Some time," Omi said gently. 

"How long?" 

"Almost twenty hours, give or take." 

Ken whistled. "Heh, shit." 

"I didn't want to bother you," said Omi, smiling faintly. 

"Then why are you bothering me now?" Omi hissed in a pained breath, and instantly Ken regretted it -- not what he'd said, but how he'd said it. He'd meant to sound joking, but it had come out way too snarky. He could be such an asshole when he set his mind to it. 

"I wanted to see you. Talk to you." 

Ken grunted. "You could have waited until I was fully awake, at least." He turned around and forced a smile, lest Omi take his words the wrong way again. 

"I'm sorry, Ken-kun." 

Waving a dismissive, almost impatient hand, Ken said, "Don't worry about it. I needed to wake up sometime soon, anyway. Fuck, I think the last time I slept that long was when I was comatose." 

"You probably don't remember much of that, I'd imagine." 

Ken smiled wryly. "I barely remember the last twenty hours." 

"I wish I could say the same," said Omi softly, hair hanging limp in his eyes. 

"Ne, Omi," Ken murmured as he crossed the room to settle back down on the bed beside his teammate. "What's up? Are you really that hung up on me leaving?" 

"So you _are_ leaving, Ken-kun?" Omi turned sad, glimmering eyes up to meet Ken's. 

"I don't know. I just don't know. I mean, really, what do we do from here? Now that we've finished Aya's mission?" 

"I'm sure Persia would be more than willing to give us a small amount of leave time," Omi said weakly. 

"It ain't about leave, though. Persia just can't give enough. Unless..." 

"Unless --?" 

Ken's voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "Unless it's for good." He cleared his throat and continued, "I've had enough. I either leave now, or I let what I've become consume me." 

"And... you'll just leave me here." 

"You'll have Yohji." 

"Yohji-kun isn't _you_!" Omi blurted out, and immediately clapped a hand to his mouth. 

Ken's own mouth hung open in surprise. As he stared at Omi, looking so flushed and so miserable, it dawned on him -- if he was going, then Omi would have to be with him, at his side. He couldn't allow another mission to wear away at their souls, steal away another glimmer of life in the other boy's eyes, make his own hands shake so badly that he could do nothing more than to watch them tremble. 

"There was a time," Omi murmured, his hands twisting in his lap, "when you said you needed me. Is that -- what I want to know is -- Is it still true?" 

Ken looked up, startled at the question. "I do," he whispered. "I do need you. More than ever." 

"Because I -- I just --" 

"Don't say anything. You don't have to." Ken was actually smiling, though his movements were hesitant as he placed cautious hands on either of Omi's shoulders. He leaned forward, until Omi was almost close enough for him to taste. 

"We don't deserve to be happy, you realize." Omi leaned into Ken's arms, resting his head against the other boy's chest. 

"I can't say I give a damn," Ken murmured against Omi's hair. 

A distinct flush of disappointment had settled into Omi's cheeks. "What we're doing -- it's awfully selfish." 

"I just told you, I don't --"

"Aya-kun wouldn't approve," Omi interjected, twisting around to stare up at Ken with wide, fearful eyes. 

The smile on Ken's face faded, darkened, and he practically pushed Omi from his lap. "If you're having second thoughts, then go. You shouldn't have asked me. Go." 

"Look, Ken-kun, I only meant that --" 

"_GO_!" Roughly, Ken shoved himself to his feet. 

"This isn't easy for me either!" Omi cried. "Do you think I want to leave the only thing I've ever known to be true?" 

"There's more to this world than just Weiss. We're not bound, not contracted. We can leave at any time." 

"Maybe you can leave, but for me it isn't quite so easy!" 

"What's the problem? We tell Persia we're out, and then we leave."

"And what of Yohji-kun? Do we just leave him behind too?" 

"Who the hell cares? I certainly don't. He didn't give a damn when Aya died."

"Don't hate Yohji-kun for the way he is. He's mourning too -- he's just not showing it." 

Ken threw his hands in the air, biting back an impatient snarl. Just when he'd managed to fool himself into thinking that Omi might have needed him as much as he needed Omi... 

"Ken-kun..." 

"You could try." Ken spun fast on his heel, facing Omi with pleading eyes. "Will you do that? Can you do that?" 

"I -- I don't know." Omi bit his lower lip, unable to meet Ken's gaze. 

"I need you. You know that already. But I can't do it -- I can't leave alone." 

"Don't put me in this position, Ken-kun. Leaving... That's something you have to be able to do on your own. The same way I need to do it on my own." Omi looked absolutely miserable, though his voice held as strong as ever. 

"What?" 

"You heard me." Even though Omi couldn't bear to turn his eyes up to meet Ken's, his voice had taken on a strong resolve. "If neither of us can do it on our own, then we're never going to be able to be fully free." 

"Are you just going to keep at it, then? Missions? Killing? Causing even more pain than you've already caused?" 

"What we're doing is necessary!" Omi retorted, head snapping up to show cheeks flaming with color. "You know that too. Otherwise you wouldn't have stayed with Weiss for three years." 

"And our time has come, Omi!" Ken exclaimed, feeling his anger give way to something akin to desperation. "Let someone else take over, bear our burden. Did you really think you'd be doing this forever?" 

"Actually, Ken-kun, I did..." said Omi quietly, once again averting his gaze. 

"Come on, Omi," Ken sighed in exasperation. 

"I thought I'd be doing this until I died." Omi managed a single, strained sob of a laugh. Short life expectancy, and all." 

"Omi..." 

"This is what I grew up doing, you see. This is all that I remember. Ever since I was a child, Weiss was my life. To leave the only thing I've ever known--" 

"You should know something better!" Ken interjected hotly. "We all deserve to."

"Tell me, Ken-kun," said Omi, explaining slowly, patiently, "how did you feel when you were forced to quit the J-League? The day your old life died, and you were brought in by Persia? The day you lost it all, everything you'd ever held dear, the day your dreams were dashed away and you were left with nothing?" 

Ken halted, face paling as Omi's words finally clicked in his mind. "I--" 

"Now you know where I'm coming from," said Omi as he moved away from the bed, turning his back to the other boy. "Excuse me. I'll be going now, like you'd asked." 

Ken blinked, watching helplessly as the other boy rose, slowly walking towards the door -- head held high, but steps shaking. And he wanted to stop him, make him turn around, keep him from leaving... But the words caught fast in his throat, held back by his own hesitancy and his fear. His mouth worked, trying so hard to form the words that would keep Omi from leaving. It was all so much easier said than done. Instead, only a soft noise managed to escape him. But it was enough to stay Omi's step, even if just for a second. 

The younger boy paused in the doorway, hand resting lightly on the frame. 

"O-Omi..." Ken managed to mutter. As he spoke, the words seemed to gain a momentum all their own.. "Listen, Omi... I know. It wasn't easy. But you know what? It proved that it could be done. It proved that such a change, such a horrible, terrible, life-altering change could be made. You take the opportunities that are presented to you, even if they're the wrong ones." 

Omi began to protest, voice thin, strained. "It's not that simple, Ken-ku--" 

"I'm not done yet!" Ken interjected, impatience creeping back into his tone. "I never said it'd be simple! I just mean that I know what it's going to be like -- hell. It'll be hell. It'll tear you to pieces on the inside. But anything's got to be better than slowly wearing away your soul like this. And -- I know you've got to do this on your own, Omi, but... I'll be here. Support, for you." 

Omi was silent for a moment, and Ken watched as his shoulders tightened, beginning to shake... 

"No. No, Omi, don't cry. I don't think I can deal with it now." 

But as Omi turned, Ken could see that the boy's cheeks were dry, and a smile was shakily spreading across his lips. "Ken-kun!" 

Before he knew it, Omi had thrown himself into Ken's arms, hugging him with a fierceness that Ken had never thought possible. And Ken's arms were tight around Omi's waist, his face burying into his hair. A tangle of arms, limbs, and an overwhelming feeling akin to happiness; Ken found himself pulling away just long enough to press his lips to Omi's -- never mind that he'd never kissed another boy in his life, not minding the squeak of surprise that Omi let out or the heat that flooded his own cheeks. 

"Ken-kun!" Omi exclaimed when they finally pulled apart, laughing for perhaps the first time in weeks. "I -- I didn't think --" 

"Yeah. Me neither." Ken was smiling sheepishly, eyes tilted down to his feet. "So, will you try? For yourself?" 

The grin on Omi's face faded somewhat. "Where will I go?" 

"With me," Ken said quickly, head snapping up. "I know someone in Australia who'd be more than happy to take us in. Or to New York -- I'm sure Yohji could hook us up with some of his old connections on the force."

"I've always wanted to go to America," said Omi in a soft tone. 

Ken nodded, slipping his arm around Omi's shoulders. Omi fit just so comfortably against him... "Here's our chance, then." 

"Want to know something funny, Ken-kun?" 

"What's that?" 

"Aya-kun wanted to go to America too," said Omi with a faint, almost nostalgic grin. 

"How did you know that?"

Omi shrugged. "I just knew. It wasn't anything he ever said out loud -- you know how he was. But there was always something in his eyes that said so..." 

"Heh. That's sort-of funny, given Aya's ability to speak English."

"Or lack thereof." 

"Exactly." 

"Not that you're much better, Ken-kun! I think the term they use overseas is 'Engrish.'" Omi grinned impishly. 

"'En-gu-rish'?" Ken rolled the word over his Japanese-trained tongue, stumbling on the inflection. 

Omi laughed aloud, a sound of such beauty that Ken might have cried if he hadn't been so happy. "See?" 

"Okay, okay. Jeez, rub it in, why don't you?" Ken chuckled. 

"So, Ken-kun, what about us, then?" 

"What about us?" 

"How do we -- I mean, what do we do from here?"

"One day at a time, I guess," Ken said, giving Omi's shoulders a light squeeze. "Why bother with definitions?" 

"This is just so strange." 

"I know. I don't even like boys."

"You could have fooled me." 

Ken poked Omi in the side, unable to hide a playful smirk as the younger boy squirmed away. "Shut up. And what about you?" 

Omi blushed. "I'm happy. A little scared, but happy. I think that's about all that matters." 

"Yeah," said Ken, burying his face against Omi's hair once again, finding solace against the younger boy's slender, solid form. Aya might be dead, but Omi was warm, and alive, and _here_. 

And so was Ken. 

**_~ 9: interlude: yohji ~_**

_"Hey." _

_"Hey. To what do I owe this honor?" _

_"Look, Yohji...?" _

_"Hmm? Why, Ken, so serious... Something on your mind?"_

_"I -- Yeah. I just wanted to say --" _

_"Stop hesitating and spit it out. I'm a busy man, you know. Yours truly has plans with a lovely lady this evening." _

_"What we did three nights ago... That was our last mission. We're out." _

_"This lovely lady hates to be kept waiting, you know. One time I was five minutes late, and... Er. Did I just hear you correctly?" _

_"Yeah. We're out." _

_"And by 'we,' you mean..." _

_"Me and Omi. No more missions." _

_"This is an interesting development. So, you've thought long and hard about this, I'm assuming." _

_"Yeah." _

_"Or are you going off on one of your hot-headed kicks again?"_

_"I'm not! Look, I can't do it anymore. It's just too much. And -- And after Aya --" _

_"So this is what it's all about, then. Aya, Aya, Aya. Always about Aya."_

_"It has nothing to do with Aya!" _

_"Don't lie to me, Ken-Ken. It has everything to do with him. The way you and Omi have been acting lately, half-hearted, going about your work at the flowershop in a daze, always hiding yourselves away from the world..." _

_"Omi's been messed up since Aya's been gone." _

_"He's always been 'messed up,' as you so delicately put it. I expected him not to be right after Aya bit it. But you -- I can't say I ever expected it from you." _

_"Well, you thought wrong!" _

_"Don't take it out on me, just 'cause your lover is dead." _

_"He isn't my lover! He never was!"_

_"You're certainly acting like a man in love. C'mon, Ken-Ken, you should know by know that kind of stuff doesn't bother me. As long as it's not me you're crushing on."_

_"It isn't Aya!"_

_"Deny it all you want! Unless... Wait a minute..."_

_"Shut up, Yohji." _

_"It's Omi, isn't it? You want out because of Omi!"_

_"Shut. Up. Just shut up."_

_"Listen to me now, Ken, because I'm serious. Weiss is no place for love." _

_"Shut up before I make yo--"_

_"-- And Weiss is no place for those who won't put their hearts completely into their job. So maybe it's best if you do leave after all." _

_"That's it, I'm going to -- Huh?"_

_"If you can hold him with al that blood on your hands, then by all means, leave. Because there won't be a place for you here." _

_"He's got plenty of blood on his own hands."_

_"I know. That's why I'm not coming down too hard on you." _

_"Yohji--"_

_"So, you're out. Omi's out. Aya's dead. Which leaves me all by my lonesome. What's a guy to do?" _

_"Er..." _

_"I wasn't ready to move on just yet, you know." _

_"Huh?"_

_"Oh. Nothing. It's nothing..." _

_"But what do you --" _

_"Look, Ken, I'd love to stay here and chat all day, but as I told you before, I've got a date. With two destinies, no less." _

_"You're terrible." _

_"I know. Glad we had this little talk." _

_"Yeah, I -- Goodbye, then."_

_"Ja ne." _

_"Ne, Yohji?" _

_"Yeah?"_

_"...Thanks." _

_"Tell me, Ken, do you think you can protect him?"_

_"He can protect himself." _

_"Good. I just needed to know. Glad to hear it."_

_"Yeah." _

_"Now you can leave." _

_"Yes, your majesty."_

_"Heh, and don't you forget it either." _

**_~ 10 ~_**

"Well?" 

"I'm coming! I just need to do one more thing, Ken-kun." 

"You're not locking up, are you?" 

"I -- well, maybe..." 

"You are. Let it go, Omi. Yohji's still there for another couple hours. He can do it himself." 

"That's exactly why I'm locking up. He'd never remember to do it on its own." 

"Just don't take too much longer, okay? We've got a flight to catch." 

"I still can't believe we're doing this. Saying goodbye..."

"Hey, it ain't going to be easy. But it's for the best."

"I know." 

"And you're not going to be alone." 

"Yes... I know. It's just that --"

"What?" 

"Ken-kun, don't you want to say goodbye?" 

Ken turned, willing himself to face the flowershop that had been his home, his prison, his hell for the past three years. Where he'd first met Omi, his first contact with the team, standing at the doorway with nothing but a backpack and a mission plan. Where he'd met Aya for the second time, had tried to make amends by punching his daylights out, and had almost been run through in return. There'd been giggling girls, both in the shop fawning over them and in Yohji's bedroom -- and there'd been girls who'd come to the shop with their problems. Ouka, Neu, Sakura. The shop had been his sanctuary after Yoriko and his hideaway when he refused to deal with Kase's betrayal. It was where he'd washed away the blood after each mission, scrubbed his hands until they were red, raw, and shaking. It was where he'd resigned himself to staying forever, until the night that Aya left them in a wave of fire on that very last mission. 

But he was leaving. He was _leaving_. With Omi. 

"No. No, I'd rather not look back." 

Omi smiled, and Ken turned away to face a brave new future. 

...owari...


End file.
